


A Need For His Touch

by Sherlock1110



Series: A Need For… [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crying, D/s - AU, Dom John, Dom/sub, Fluff, Kneeling, M/M, Petting of curls, Punishment, Rutting, Sub Sherlock, cat like Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4565571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt;<br/>Like you know how cats come up to your hand and run their head into it? Is that not Sherlock? Would Sherlock not place his head directly under john’s hand for the petting of curls?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Need For His Touch

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Haughty, Demanding and Finicky](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4558710) by [sherlockian4evr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr). 



> Beta read by sherlockian4evr
> 
> John has a very bad day. Two patient deaths are too much for him to handle. He overreacts to Sherlock's misbehaviour and punishes him a bit too much. Of course, he recognises his mistake and relents. He needs to feel Sherlock as much as Sherlock needs to be touched.

Sherlock had been alone all day. All day with nothing to do. He just wanted to curl up on John's lap. Except John wasn't here. John was at work.

At half 5 when the doctor was due to turn up, Sherlock got a message from Lestrade. Without even thinking of the consequences, he shot out the door completely forgetting why he was bored. It turned out to be suicide and in the cab on the way home, Sherlock remembered what he'd left, and for nothing more than a 2. He knew his Dom was going to be less than impressed. To be honest, so was he. Even Anderson could have worked that one out.

When he walked into the sitting room, John was sat in his arm chair reading his book. He didn't acknowledge Sherlock as he entered the room. One hand held the book securely. The other hung absently from the arm of the chair.

Seeing it as an invitation, Sherlock dropped to his knees and crawled over. He pushed his head into his Dom's hand. He did it a lot, when he needed comfort. It usually resulted in the petting of curls, but this time John's hand pulled away and he clipped him on the back of his head. Sherlock flinched.

“John-”

“No!”

“Sir-”

“Better. Now be quiet.”

Shit. John had had a bad day at work. He was probably looking forward to a quiet evening with his sub, but now they'd both been denied that because Sherlock had ran out of the flat without letting John know where he was going. He worried, he always said, and in Sherlock's line of work, he couldn't blame the older man.

Sherlock couldn't help but push his head into the hand that appeared again. It was like instinct, so often John would pet his hair and then he'd get tickled. But that didn't happen. Again. John pushed his head down so his face practically hit the floor. “No.”

Sherlock stayed bent over. It was a rather strenuous position to maintain.

“You didn't want to pay me any attention just to let me know where you were. I'm not going to pay you any attention now.”

Fair enough, Sherlock thought, but did it have to be so damned uncomfortable?

After a few minutes Sherlock shifted slightly and grunted.

“Kneel up,” John ordered.

The detective was more than willing to comply, and once again his head tried to find John's hand.

“Stand.”

Confused, but not willing to disobey, Sherlock stood.

“Take one pace to the right and kneel again.”

John didn't miss the hurt look that flashed into Sherlock's face. It didn't disappear as he took one pace to the right and knelt.

When Sherlock realised that John had done it so he couldn't seek comfort, he sniffed and bowed his head. He hadn't really meant to make his Dom mad. He hadn't! He vowed that he would never go out on a case again and then realised how stupid that was; he would never go out on a case without John again. That's better.

He glanced over at the doctor briefly and whimpered. The whimper sounded more like a whine that a cat would make as a dog walked passed the window and barked at it.

“Keep still and keep quiet, Sherlock!” John barked. Sherlock's head snapped back around to face the floor again, wondering how long he was going to be knelt out on his own little island, isolated.

Sherlock stayed like that for what felt like days but to John was just under an hour. He'd been watching his sub on and off for that time, but the last 5 minutes he'd practically been watching him solidly. The younger man was sniffing regularly and appeared to be, crying?, as well as trembling as if he was cold. He still had his coat on so that couldn't be it.

“Why are you crying, Sherlock?” John asked tiredly. He rubbed his hand over his face, distantly thinking that maybe he had overreacted. He had had two patients die on him in surgery today. He was entitled to a bad mood, just not entitled to take it out on his sub. He sighed waiting for Sherlock to reply.

John watched as he attempted to gain control of himself. His hand came up briefly as he sniffed again and attempted to silence himself. That was not the response that the doctor was going for.

Sherlock couldn't bear to look at his Dom. He'd just suddenly come over emotional. That didn't mean that he could disobey him though. John had told him to be quiet; he hadn't realised quite how loud he was being.

“I'm sorry, sir,” he sobbed brokenly.

John realised there and then that the younger man had been punished enough, even too much.

“Come over here.”

Sherlock shook his head, no! He was only saying that because he was being noisy. He took a deep trembling breath and then shivered. If he moved over, he'd either be told off further or comforted because he was upset. In his opinion he didn't really deserve either. He was happy where he was. Well… happier than he could be.

“Come here, pet,” John repeated, softly.

Looking up once, and knowing he couldn't disobey a repeated command, Sherlock shuffled over and this time eyed the waiting hand cautiously. When he caught John's nod, he pushed his head into it and let out another broken whimper.

“I'm sorry, sir. I'm really sorry. I was waiting all day and then Lestrade texted and I just-”

“Shh,” John soothed. He nudged his sub's head over onto his lap and twirled his hand around, tickling at that spot behind his ear until Sherlock made that purring noise that made him sound just like a cat. The purring noise didn't stop, and when John moved his hand Sherlock whimpered.

“Come on then, little kitty, come up here.”

For a second John thought his sub was going to refuse, but he just smiled and then clambered up onto the chair, his head back in his Dom's lap. He let the older man drag whatever noises he wanted from him and he nosed at his still clothed cock. His purring got louder and John shivered in anticipation.

“Pet, you know what that noise does to me.”

Sherlock smiled up blearily, just glad that the doctor wasn't ignoring him anymore.

John nodded. “Go on then.”


End file.
